CURRENT Magazine Fall 2013 by Cape Cod Academy

CURRENT MAGAZINE

MADE AT CAPE COD ACADEMY

NOVEMBER 2013

CURRENT

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Magazine of Cape Cod Academy online November 2013 issue 2

Plotting an Alien Invasion with Drama Club p.3

Taking oďŹ&#x20AC; with Mortimer Sikes p.34 NOVEMBER 16, 2013

ISSUE 2

Soaring at Chewonki with the

Class of 2018 p.17!

! Trekking Deep into the Yellow Wood with Robert Frost p.26

Poets

of the Academy Photo by Joy Shi

CURRENT MAGAZINE

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news Drama club announcement 3 Speakers series 4 New cool pool 5 Please contact Ben Ayres, Shannon Mott or Suzanne Adler to receive the password for viewing the eight videos in this issue.

Faculty development day 6 + video Sailing team history 7 Sports scene 8 + video People to People 9-10

video: Lower School students sing “You Can Count on Me.” https:// vimeo.com/78784973

video: chorale sings “Tuxedo Junction” https://vimeo.com/ 78789458

in the classroom History class diorama 11 + video Poetry Plays lesson 12-16 + videos Chewonki 17-21 Lower School poems 22-25 +video of “Old Cape Cod“

creative writing Roads not taken 26-33 Take Oﬀ with Mortimer Sykes 34-43 Stories by Lydia 44-53 Poems by Victoria 54 2

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This year the CCA Drama Club presents Apocalypse, a funny, drama7c, ac7on-‐packed play about a typical American family surviving apocalyp7c events that include an alien invasion and an asteroid impact. The play pokes fun at popular Young Adult novels such as Twilight, The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The Host. At 7mes a comedy, at 7mes a serious drama, this play also depicts how people might change when forced to survive a global catastrophe.

-‐Mr. Bellamy

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A Diplomatic Start to Our New Speaker Series Raymond F. Burghardt arrived in Vietnam on December 15, 2001, after having been nominated as Ambassador to Vietnam by President George W. Bush on September 4, 2001, and confirmed by the Senate on November 15, 2001. ! Ambassador Burghardt was formerly the Director of the American Institute in Taiwan (AIT) from 1999-2001. Before that he was the American Consul General in Shanghai - a position he held from 1997-1999. He previously served as Deputy Chief of Mission at the U.S. Embassies in Manila (1993-96) and

Seoul (1990-93) and as Political Counselor in Beijing (1987-89).

The Speakers Series at Cape Cod Academy, sponsored by the Community Committee, brings interesting people to the academy to speak on thought-provoking topics. Citizens from the local community are welcome to join us.

(Biography. Raymond F. Burghhardt. Embassy of the United States-Hanoi, Vietnam. Web. Accessed 11.8.13. http:// vietnam.usembassy.gov/burghardt.html)

In the Obama years, based in Hawaii with an oďŹ&#x192;ce in Washington, the ambassador has headed the EastWest Institute. His duties have taken him to China and Taiwan,

and he periodically meets with Asian leaders in The United States.

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NEW POOL BUILT IN TIME FOR SUMMER CAMP

A cool new pool is now part of the Cape Cod Academy landscape.

SEPTEMBER LANDSCAPING WORK FOLLOWS INSTALLATION OF POOL ABOVE: CHRIS GONNELLA WITH BOB PETERSON

BELOW: TIM GRIMM

THE MEN HAD PLENTY LEFT TO DO THIS FALL INSTALLING DRAINAGE AND A LARGE LAWN SURROUNDING THE POOL AREA. BOB, A CAPE NATIVE, SAYS THAT THE BUILDINGS AND GROUNDS CREW LIVES BY THE FOUR PILLARS OF THE ACADEMY, MAINTAINING HIGH RESPECT FOR ITS STANDARDS.

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FACULTY DEVELOPMENT DAY

The Teacher Evaluation Committee briefs the faculty on plans.

ThetoCommunity Type enter text Committee presents new ideas. video: School Head Phil Petru speaks with grandparents about service learning Tia non ob ea soluad https://vimeo.com/78934279

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Reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse molestaie cillum.

Small groups discuss creative lessons and priorities.

Littera gothica quam nunc putamus parum claram anteposuerit formas.

THOUGHT PROVOKING ACTIVITIES In October on Faculty Development Day, the teachers discussed eﬀective lessons and new initiatives. Mr. Petru led many of the activities, and a variety of teachers led others. “It’s great to get together with all of our colleagues,” remarked Mr. Lewison. A delicious lunch was provided by the Parents Association.

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Cape Cod Academy Sailing Team: A Brief History By Elizabeth Pemberton â&#x20AC;&#x2122;14, senior captain Almost 6 years ago, a couple of students had the idea to start a sailing team. With the help of a few parents, some donations and a willing coach, the CCA sailing team took flight. Being a member since day one I can personally say I have seen the team evolve. It has been a crazy few years starting up, getting boats, purchasing sails, and of course training teammates. With barely enough kids for a team the expectations werenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t high. For the early years it was only a club team, becoming a varsity team just four years ago. Now we race against elite boarding schools throughout New England such as Tabor, Hotchkiss, and St. Georges--a group of schools that no other CCA team plays. At times it can be very intimidating and hard. It has taken a lot of persistence and dedication. The team has come so far. In the last few seasons the sailing team has won their way to Seattle, Chicago, and Florida, becoming the first CCA sports team to be nationally ranked. Being one of the senior captains, I am excited to see where the team will go. In the offseason, Brent Jensen, the sailing coach, has been running a sailing program for kids all around Massachusetts. We sail out of Wianno Yacht Club, and encourage anyone who has ever wanted to sail, or can already, to come out for the day. We are all just kids, some as young as sixth grade or old as twelfth, all sailing together, to have fun and improve.

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SPORTS SCENES

Girls soccer coach (and science teacher) Aaron Crowell reports: “We finished the season 14-3-1, best overall record on Cape Cod. We tied Nantucket as cochampions of the region. We had eleven seniors. We finished with the second lowest ‘points against’ on Cape Cod and fourth most ‘scored for.’ Congratulations to the team from everybody at CURRENT magazine!

To view a three-minute movie of the girls varsity soccer team in action click this link: http://vimeo.com/77592606 Please contact Mr. Ayres for the password.

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CCA PEOPLE TO PEOPLE CHAPTER TEAMS UP WITH UNITED KINGDOM SOCCER DEVELOPMENT PROGRAM

People to People’s November Coffee House Raises Money to bene9it schools in Dominica by Katie Bailey ’15 Not many people know about the island called Dominica. No, not the Dominican Republic, but Dominica. Dominica is a small island, 289 sq miles, located in the Caribbean islands. The impoverished island contains about 70,000 people, 30% of whom live below the poverty line. One would think that an island located in the Caribbean would bring in a lot of tourism and economic help, however that is not the case here. Dominica is the 25th least-‐ visited place in the world. Exported fruits and vegetables from its tropical climate are the country’s main income. The island is nicknamed “The Nature Island” as a result of its untouched, natural beauty. That is what makes it so special. I am privileged to say that The Nature Island is my winter vacation destination. A group of high school students from across Cape Cod, and I, are fortunate to be given this opportunity, thanks to the organization United Kingdom Soccer Development. UKSD is “a dynamic organization that is

making an effort to better the lives of people both at home and worlds away.” Run by Lee Docherty, Meghan Fligg and high school volunteers, UKSD is small organization that is growing fast. Not only do they bring relief to economically depressed locations overseas, but to places that are close to home here… on Cape Cod, too. They run small-‐sided soccer tournaments which raise food and money for “local families who do not know where their next meal is coming from.” UKSD believes that “we often get so caught up in our own lives that we forget that there are many people a lot less fortunate than ourselves.” This idea is central to my going this winter. Lee Docherty, creator of UKSD, traveled to Dominica this past June to meet with partnering organizations

(in.light.in, C.A.L.L.S, and The Carib Territories) to sort out details for the trip. The charities provide sports clinics, arts and crafts, education, food, clothing, and supplies for those struggling in the community of Dominica. We will be meeting up with these charities during our trip so they can assist us with providing supplies to families in need. So far, UKSD has collected enough money to purchase one barrel that will be 9illed with sports equipment and supplies for the people in need of Dominica. UKSD hopes to buy, and 9ill, a total of three barrels for the trip this upcoming February. Each barrel costs $360 to purchase and ship down to the island. This is where Cape Cod Academy’s organization, People to People, is going to help.

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Cape Cod Academy’s chapter of People to People, which is an organization that helps support charities both locally and internationally, holds a student-‐run coffee house to raise money for a selected cause. This year, UKSD was given the honor of being chosen as one of the charities to which the proceeds of the November coffee house will go. Admission will be $5 for students, and $10 for adults; there will also be a bin for old/used sports equipment (in good condition) that will be donated to the schools of Dominica. The money raised from the coffee house will be used to purchase supplies and the barrels that will be needed to ship the materials and equipment to the island.

The coffee house was November 8 at 7 p.m., at Cape Cod Academy. It was an enjoyable social event and everyone appreciated the talents of many from our school, helping a great cause. If you didn’t make the coffee house, and are interested in donating money or equipment, contact Lee Docherty: info@uksd.org.

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Eighth Graders Make a Diorama of the 1863 Confederate Oﬀensive at Gettysburg In preparation for their unit on the Civil War, the 8th graders in Mr. Bellamy’s American history class used their double-block time to create a diorama of portions of the Gettysburg

battlefield that were the locations of the Confederate offensive against the Union left flank on July 2, 1863, the second day of the three-day battle.

Click to view the 3-minute movie blending film footage of the area of the battlefield with shots of the diorama.

https://vimeo.com/77870971

The students also made set-ups of toy soldiers to reenact the fighting. Photographs of these set-ups have been mixed with photographs and video taken by Mr. Bellamy when he visited the famous battlefield this summer to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the biggest battle fought on American soil in which nearly 8,000 Americans were killed and many more were wounded. The diorama depicts Little Round Top, Devil’s Den, and the Wheatfield. Here, Union soldiers fought desperately to hold back the Confederate attack. Although the Union maintained its hold on Little Round Top, they were pushed back from Devil’s Den and the Wheatfield and retreated to the main concentration of Union forces on Cemetery Ridge. The Confederate offensive that day reached Cemetery Ridge but failed to breach the Union lines. 11

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EIGHTH GRADERS DRAMATIZE POEMS IN AN ENGLISH LESSON In September, we performed poetry for the movie camera in a “Poetry Plays” lesson, collaborating in troupes to memorize and dramatize poems for video. Ms. Packard and Mr. Ayres guided the process. We learned about memorizing and different poems. We had fun with our troupes.

Click here to watch short (eight minutes each) versions of the seven-day lesson: https://vimeo.com/77835159 https://vimeo.com/77929779 Please contact Mr. Ayres for password. WE FILMED IN THE OUTDOOR CLASSROOM AND OTHER LOCATIONS AROUND CAMPUS

“I think you came to understand the poetry more deeply by working in front of a camera and then seeing yourselves on camera working towards the final day of filming.” -Ms. Packard

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EIGHTH GRADERS DRAMATIZE POEMS IN AN ENGLISH LESSON, CON’T

“I like how relaxed this poem unit was. It was a nice break from taking notes and worrying about tests. Performing the poetry plays also helped me to break out of my shell a little. Another part I liked was using props to act silly with. The video footage was fun to watch. I think showing it to future classes who are about to do the lesson would be good.” !

-Michele Guo

“The thing I liked most about other groups’ performances were the strange variety of props they used. My favorites were Danny’s crazy wig, Mariah’s newspaper, the stuffed tiger dog, Christian’s Jabberwocky suit, and Lilly’s candle. A lot more can be done with poetry than writing it and speaking it. It can be acted out and become so colorful, instead of black and white, like ink on paper.” !

-Noelle Benoit

Poetry Plays

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EIGHTH GRADERS DRAMATIZE POEMS IN AN ENGLISH LESSON, CON’T.

“It was fun memorizing my poem so that I could recite it without reading.” !

-Michael Zammito

“Everyone got to act out poetry and we had a variety of op7ons during the lesson, such as loca7ons and how we wanted Mr. Ayres to ﬁlm us. Overall this lesson was interes7ng and it held our aFen7on. It was tons of fun. I think some of the footage should go on our website and be shown to prospec7ve middle school students when they shadow.”

-‐Zachary Roman

One thing I liked about this unit was seeing other people’s talents. Certain people like Mariah and Chris7an are very good and talented with poetry. It was fun to see them in their own element and how they brought the poems to life. Another thing I enjoyed about this lesson was I became more familiar with poetry and with wri7ng in logs. I like to write, but what I write is usually a ﬁc7onal story. This lesson helped me become more comfortable with another form of wri7ng. -‐Ka7e “What I learned about the poems while rehearsing was poems aren’t as bad as people think they are. Performing was really fun and you memorize a poem that you keep forever. In the poem ‘The Buffaloes’ I could feel the sadness and loss of it. -Lilly Kallinich

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EIGHTH GRADERS DRAMATIZE POEMS IN AN ENGLISH LESSON, CON’T “In this lesson I liked filming out our poems. This was fun because the filming was the final product and we could watch it back and see how we did from everyone else’s perspective. I liked watching the other groups film. I think that we should save the videos and show them to the 7th graders next year and so on so they get a sense of what they are working toward with this project.” -Annalisa Souza “One of the things I liked was the acting and rehearsing. This was very exciting and helpful to my acting skills. I think that with the footage we have I think we should use it for learning how we can become better performers and we co uld also put it in a public place like on the website.” -Nick Stoner Doing Poetry Plays was a great experience for all of us. I really liked that we were responsible for planning our whole performance by ourselves. My group’s poem was “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe. Our original intention was to film at a large rock with a background of sea grasses. However, halfway through the poem, construction machinery interrupted so we moved to the woods to finish the filming. -Abi Balkin

“When you are going to act it out you have to read through it many times and understand what each word really means. This helps you appreciate the poem more.” -George Benway “I liked that we were able to express ourselves while reciting some great poems, and getting to say the words in diﬀerent ways and noticing what the poem’s about, and writing our own poems and getting to put the words together to describe what we felt and thought about light. The challenge of writing a poem is fun. You have to put all the words together like a puzzle and then scrap them and start over.” Brianna Rice “Memorizing my poems developed an important skillset and also broadened my view of poetry. My favorite part was writing our own poetry after Chewonki.” -Mariah Van Sciver

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“It is satisfying when you perform it. You have it in your memory.” -Lilly Kallinich

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CHEWONKI LIFE THE MAIN THING CHEERING US ON AND MAKING US WANT TO THRIVE WAS EACH OTHER.

By Daniel Nuss ’18

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bonding all the classmates together. After we realized that our fellow friends and students were there for us, we grew as one. ! Then came the ropes course. A series of diﬃcult rope climbs where you must fully be able to trust your partner. These courses were very tricky, yet fun. The main thing cheering us on and making us want to thrive was each other. One of the best memories was

I spent three nights in Chewonki, Maine, cooking food over a fire, using the woods as a bathroom, eating a strange mix of food named “gourp,” and withdrawing oﬀ sugar. Who would have known it was the best time of my life. Chewonki was a very exciting and new experience for many of my classmates including myself. Some kids may have mixed feelings about this trip, but the majority of us didn’t. I will never forget the thrilling rush of the gulch, which had a zipline over a rushing stream of water. Many kids feared the gulch, but as our classmates cheered them on with positive encouragement many of them gained faith and went. This gulch played a major part in

“tent time,” when we could stay up and talk to our tent mates. That really bonded us. Then came the chilling but comforting fresh morning air. I will never forget the beautiful feeling of being able to eat my warm eggs and gaze upon the beautiful lake and creatures. The hike every morning and night was diﬃcult, but with all of us working together, we knew we could do anything. Chewonki will always hold a very special place in my heart. I will never forget being able to breathe in the fresh air. As the last day grew old, we all huddled around a campfire and knew these friendships would last.

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Autumn Embers Flame sputters and succumbs to the chill of autumn’s breath Embers remain glowing and cast shadows on the scorched stones of the fire’s border Flickering shadows are cast down as if stifled by moonbeams Smoldering coals blanket the Earth and wane s they reach the circle’s fringe Imperfections in the timber are an intricate maze of ravines and peaks as they’re illuminated In the dark. Warmth slices throught crisp air as it emanates from the middle of the once raging fire Dusk envelops the coast as if cloaking the forest in the gloom of nightfall Auburn and gold blend and the hue of fading embers dims Cinders lose momentum in the race to stay aflame, dwindling as the campfire dies Silhouettes once clear in the setting sun are blurred as shadows lower further on night’s horizon Ashes are flurries of snow as the gusts carry them; obscured by the smoky haze, Blazing inferno reduced to dust. -Mariah !

Campfire The flames dance around the blackening wood Consuming whatever they touch. The bright embers protect me from the cold of autumn’s night. I watch, the flames flicker, In the black of night. It draws people to its comfort, As moths go to the brightness. Wathing the embers, sleep draws upon me, As it is time to go to bed. ! ! ! -Katie

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Sunlight

Luminescent Rays

Sunlight is what starts the day, It peeks through trees, shining bright, Bask in the warmth of the hot day sun, And watch it set with delight.

A warm glow fills the empty space in my tent As I unzip the entrance.

The sun is a ball of energy, To keep you going through the day, The sun is gaseous gold, That shimmers and shines.

And send heat back into my cheeks. The morning sun shines between the leaves Of an oak.

It will set, you’ll go to sleep, You’re leaving it behind, But do not fear, have a cheer, It’s never going away. !

-Christian

The luminescent rays of the sunrise Embrace the forest.

Causing a mosaic of shadows To dance around on the pine needle-covered earth. The beaming radiance wakes the world up With the gentle beauty of a swan. It welcomes the new day with its brilliance. ! ! ! ! ! ! ! -Katie

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The Laundry Pile I wake up this morning See a pale glow shining through the tent. It has a green 7nt. Spooky, eerie, creepy. The transparent glow Like waves in a calm sea. The glow lands near my feet Illumina7ng a horrid sight. It is the dirty, smelly, s7nky, putrid, horrid, rancid, vile, disgus7ng, Abominable sight…. Of [that guy’s] laundry pile.

-‐Zachary Roman

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Fire FIRE Fire, how do you keep us warm when we get cold in the night? Fire, how can you be so bright leading us through the night? We have so many questions. Oh fire, you are amazing with your yellow flames and wood burning. Oh fire, thanks for all your help. You keep us warm. You keep nice and bright. Oh, wait. There’s no more wood… So, goodnight. -Olivia Noonan

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Thanks chaperones Ms. Rapp, Mrs. Shi and Mrs. Fachada !

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by John, grade one

http://vimeo.com/78547799 Click to view the younger seahawks singing “Old Cape Cod” to grandparents.

second grade art class: corn husk figures

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second grade poetry

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Fall Hear the wind blow and the trees shake down. Look at the maples all colorful and brown. Leaves blowing in the wind, You can hear this noise. You can hear the trees sing a soft sad song, With a tune to the beat. Wild breezes coming this way, A chill comes so soon. Flying birds heading south with a whistling tune, Humming to the beat. When you hear no sound, There is nothing to say. by Shay

Fabulous Fall Picking ruby red apples. Acorns falling from every tree. Wind blowing through the trees. The hold-on-tight leaves, Finally let go, Gently drifting to the ground. Colorful piles of leaves. Sitting in front of the crackling fire. Jack-o-lanterns glowing on Halloween night. by Tessa

Fun Fall Red leaves falling. Acorns dropping. Jumping in piles of leaves. Chilly days come around. Wearing sweaters and hats. Getting pumpkins for Halloween. Cutting them open for their seeds. Roasting them until theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re brown. Filling my basket with tons of candy. Sharing with my friends. Thanksgiving is coming! by Yani

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Fall Sweet Fall Crunchy leaves Red leaves Trees with no leaves Raking leaves Leaf piles.

Glowing Autumn Leaves falling gracefully down. Picking juicy red apples. Cool moisture in the air. Buying Halloween costumes. Loads of candy Trick or Treating. Gathering with grandparents for Thanksgiving. by Abbie

Bears stuffing themselves with berries and fruit. Vees in the sky from migrating geese. My birthday Halloween Thanksgiving School Beaver Moon Getting cooler very soon. -Adam

Fall is Here Fall is here.

Fall Falling leaves. Brown grass. Cold weather. Trick or treating. by Yoana Dokleva

Time to laugh and play. Time to run and jump. Apple picking. TRICK OR TREAT!!!!! Carving pumpkins. Witches on broomsticks. Goblins laughing. Everybody loves the fall!!!

by Charlotte

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In Fall Once a year is a season called fall Where the leaves change colors And they flutter down With the acorns falling.

Beau%ful Sunny Autumn Day Red leaves falling from the

by Michael

windy blue sky. Having a sweet cup of hot cider. LiFle furry squirrels dropping acorns, From the beau7ful sunny sky. by Gabriel

Fall Fun

A Chilly Autumn

Autumn Leaves The leaves changed color And pumpkins were grown too. Leaves were falling And birds were calling. As I skipped through the air, I said to myself,

Picking Granny Smith and Red Delicious Apples Leaves changing colors, Falling all around, Falling slowly off... big beautiful trees.

I knew autumn was there.

Leaves piling and

by Grace

And I am jumping

piling, into them. by Hannah

Red leaves on the ground. Windy today. Playing games with sweaters on. Chilly weather comes around. Gathering around the fire with warm coats and blankets. A wonderful season. Beautiful maple trees covered with leaves. Piles of leaves red, yellow, and green. All sing a song for fall. A fun day for fall. by Ella

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INTERPRETATIONS of “The Road Not Taken”

The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim Because it was grassy and wanted wear, Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the diﬀerence. -Robert Frost

Robert Frost’s “Road Not Taken” is a simple poem with a simple message that gains in complexity as we start to dig. The direct message seems to relate to the penultimate line: “I took the one less traveled by.” The poet seems happy with his choice to be a poet and observer, to be less conventional. Then, as we look back over the poem, we start to see other messages, signals and starting points. Why is the poet “telling this with a sigh?” What kind of sigh? Why “ages and ages hence?” Does Frost, forty-six years old when he wrote the poem in 1920, intend the narrative voice to be that of a much younger man who is coming into awareness that the path he chooses not to take will be irretrievable? Mr. Martin asked his English students to write about their views of the meaning of this iconic and enigmatic poem. Here are representative responses.

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-roadnot-taken/

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“There are diﬀerent choices in life. Once you have made up your mind, you cannot go back and choose again. Some people follow others, deciding to make a “common” choice. However, you should follow your heart instead. Don’t let others confound you. Choose what you really want. Many years later, when you recall, you should be proud of yourself.” -Crystal Zhuang ’14

Photos by Ben Ayres

“Life is full of decisions. Whatever you choose does not matter. You Free will decides your fate. Good or can never go back and will never know what is going to happen next. bad, your path is “beaten” by your There are no ‘what-ifs’ in life and every decision makes a diﬀerence.” decisions. -Eric Kau ’14 ! -Jillian Rosenfeld ’14

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“There is not one clear-cut choice to make, as there are many choices from which to decide. No matter what path we choose, the past is the past and the future is up to us, depending on how we live the present.” -Kristopher Frank ’14

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“Everything happens for a reason. There are many paths to people’s future. Different ideas and destinations lead people to different futures. Everything that is happening now might lead to people’s different future lives.” -Rainbow Wu ’14

“Frost’s poem plays with the idea of being diﬀerent. “Don’t always take the easy way out. It’s good to be Don’t let others’ choices rule who you are. Choose curious. This opens new doors, and although it may what you want for your own reasons. The others be more work, it may lead to a better outcome. You may be wrong.” -Olivia Rand ’14 never know until you try.” -Mona Yusuf ’14

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“The two roads are associated with the loneliness and importance in a significant event that seems innocuous at the time. Every decision you make no matter how big or small has cataclysmic eﬀects on the future.” -Jack Hanesian ’14

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“There is not a right or wrong decision. No matter what you choose, there will be results that impact your life. When all is said and done, you will look back and reflect on your choices. You will learn from what you did wrong, and accept what you did well, but they cannot be changed. -Bailey Hans ’14

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“Any moves and decisions make your life diﬀerent.” -Troy ’14

“When you made the choice. Things won’t change. It is what it is. What we can do is enjoy the thing.” ! -Cecilia ’14

“This poem is pretty sad because the traveler wanted to be able to see what would await him on either road but could only choose one. He chose the path less traveled and although fewer people have seen it, the traveler later may wish he could have chosen the other one.” -Jason Fachada ’14

“I see in Frost’s poem an image of a person standing before two diverging roads of his life, choosing his own destiny. Each way is diﬀerent, and he chooses the road that few people have traveled. In other words, he chooses the harder but more distinctive life.” ! -Jing Zheng ’14

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“No matter what you do you will always look back and wonder if you made the right decision. Don’t waste time looking back when you need to be looking and moving forward.” -Danny Crossen ’17

“Diﬀerent choices lead to diﬀerent places. The road which has been traveled many times by people which is nice and flat, developed by people’s steps... we know what is leads to, exactly. The other road, which is full of unknowns and challenges. We know what it’s leading to, but just by guessing. Which way should we go?” Jason Lin ’14

CURRENT MAGAZINE “I think it’s about making sure you make the right decisions in life, even though you will make decisions in life that you will regret.” -Sophie Stockwell ’17

MADE AT CAPE COD ACADEMY

NOVEMBER 2013

ISSUE 2

“This poem makes me think about all of my choices and all the ones I will have to make in the future. I also think it will make me think ahead for my choices and how they will change my future.” ! ! ! -Matt Moring ’17

portrait by Karina Dvorsak

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ISSUE 2

“Facing choices with serenity. Following your heart. Not bringing regret.” -Antonia Liu ’14

Take Off..... with Mortimer Sikes

story one: Movie Times

If you like going to the movies, the movie Now You See Me, science fiction, drama, computers, hypnosis, Mars, rivers, milling around, Jason’s guitar playing, female jazz quartets, Melanie Laurent, Woody Harrelson, Billy Crystal, Alex Monto, the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, rockets, being in a dream and/or Fiona telling you that Mars is about to arrive... then this story’s definitely for you.

Take Off..... with Mortimer Sikes Hi, I’m Mortimer. I have just finished English in my kitchen and I am on my laptop looking up Hyannis movie theater times for Now You See Me, the newish movie about modern-day Robin Hoods and their magic. All my friends have recommended it. Mom and Dad and Sunflower have gone to bed. It ‘s getting late. I’m watching the trailer. I am drowsy. Very drowsy. Now Melanie Laurent’s voice is inviting me to pick a card. Woody Harrelson’s voice is inviting me... to fall into a... deep... sleep. I find myself at school in the gym. People are milling around and reading Taro cards. I feel like I am different from everyone else. Noah appears. “Hi Mortimer,” he greets me. “Welcome to the rocket.” “Thanks. What’s everyone doing?” “Just walking around. Try walking around with them.” Noah says. You’ll find out soon,” he says. “OK,” I say, and start walking around with them. But then they stop. They seem to be just hanging around waiting for something to happen.

Take Off..... with Mortimer Sikes Now Paulina’s trying to figure out the symbols and numbers on the side of a white igloo-like capsule. Fiona is telling people that she’s just seen the capsule come through the skylight in the gym. Erica swears she hears guitar music coming from the igloo. More people come over. Hunter is trying to get the thing inside to come out. Ned is whistling Elton John’s “Rocket Man.” Jason comes out of the capsule wearing a polar bear suit and holding a guitar. Hunter asks, “Where did you come from, anyway?” “Somewhere cold, I guess,” says Jason from under his furry hood. “Hey, who was whistling ‘Rocket Man’? That was jive.” Ned raises his hand and starts to pucker up again but now the crowd collectively gasps. A caped character has appeared on the balcony. Someone whispers, “It’s Alex Monto!” But the guy has Billy Crystal’s voice. “No need to worry, people. You are in for a little treat. Now form a rectangle.” The school forms a rectangle. “10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... TAKE OFF!” says the voice of Billy Crystal. Then the entire gym lifts oﬀ the ground with a roar and points towards the heavens. Within a few moments, our blue and watery home is visible outside the gym windows, hovering like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade balloon. 36

Take Off..... with Mortimer Sikes “You may unfasten your seatbelts. Have a good flight,” says the hooded character with the voice of Billy Crystal. No one knows what to say. So no one says anything.

Within moments we are looking back on ourselves. It’s exciting in a spacey kind of way. I’m thinking Sunflower would love this.

Take Off..... with Mortimer Sikes We’re in space now. We don’t really know what to do. We hadn’t planned on this when we’d arrived at school this morning. Some people are wondering if they have So You Think You Can Dance on Mars. Others are wondering if there’s basketball. Then a really strange thing happens. The voice, which is everywhere in the entire gym, calls out, “Freeze!” and everyone absolutely freezes in place. I see Alex on the balcony. My eyes are frozen on him. He takes off his cape and disappears. The cape floats weightless there.

Take Off..... with Mortimer Sikes

Everybody stays frozen.

“Wake up!” snaps Mr. Bellamy as if he is giving a stage direction. And suddenly everyone is awake and floating around as if nothing has happened. I ask Jasmine, “What do you think of this adventure? Do they do this in China?” “Bear with me,” Jasmine smiles. “What exactly is ‘this’?” “Yah,” says Melly, floating into Jasmine, “We should see the red planet pretty soon. Keep an eye out, Mortimer.” “Alrighty then,” I say. 39

Take Off..... with Mortimer Sikes

“Hey Mortimer! Hey, want to sing with us?” It’s Rebecca, Rosie, Emi and Emily. “We’re going to sing some jazz pieces for the Martians. Want to join us?” “Sure, I guess,” I say. After some singing, I float into Mr. Bellamy. In his hand is a tiny camera, about the size of a kidney bean. It’s pointing at me. “Just be yourself, Mortimer,” he says. The gym drifts at nearly the speed of light, and then the red planet floats into view through the skylight, looking very much like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon. “Look, it’s Mars,” says Fiona, excitedly. “Look, it’s Mars,” she says again, a little louder. 40

Take Off..... with Mortimer Sikes

Before long, we are discussing Ray Bradburyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Martian Chronicles, and rivers that once flowed on Mars. I wonder what kinds of fish there were.

Take Off..... with Mortimer Sikes

One more time ... The caped figure appears on the balcony. “We have orbited Mars and now will return to Earth,” he says in his Billy Crystal voice. “Our estimated time of arrival is lunch. Please go directly to G period after lunch. There will be no clubs today. This has been clubby enough. Please now give an all hail to the old timers standing amidships. “All hail to the old timers!” we all hail. And with that, Alex Monto once again takes oﬀ his cape, throws it to the air, and vanishes. Once more the cape hovers weightless in the gym atmosphere.

Old ones who started in the early times

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In my dream I am remembering that I want to be checking out movie times for Now You See Me. I navigate to Regal Cinemas and when I’m there a trailer is still playing. There’s Jack Hanesian, out on the lawn, pumping up Mars with a bicycle pump. Paulina is studying a book of symbols. Fiona is squinting at the sky. There’s a cut to Jason in polar bear pants by an igloo, playing bass guitar. Then to four girls singing jazzy songs on a wrinkled, fadedred drop cloth. Then to an ebony cape, suspended with fishing line. Then to a little camera suspended from a hoop. Fade out.

Fade in. Sky shot of Woody Harrelson walking alone on the beach at Sandy Neck. Zoom in. Woody wears a space shuttle jumpsuit. Cut to Mars rising over the Atlantic. Philip Glass music. Woody lifts binoculars to eyes. Cross dissolve to Martian rivers flowing blue. Woody smiles. Fade out. Fade in to me in the kitchen with my head on my arms. Camera up the stairs to my mom in the upstairs hallway. She’s calling, “Mortimer, time for bed!” Cut to someone’s finger snapping. Dissolve back to my eyes, springing open. (Fade to orange. Credits.) NASA images

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Common Circumstance by Lydia Dick ’14

NOVEMBER 2013

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When they turned off the lights, a drumming of hands and feet rumbled through the crowd of students. The rumbling crescendoed, spreading from student to student like a whispered secret between friends as the servers rushed behind the lattice wood dividers that concealed the serving carts and kitchens behind. The promise of apple pie instigated our clamor; the desert encapsulating the vain hope that somehow in a slice of spiced apples and 9lakey dough there would be a slice of home on this Thanksgiving that was so far from it. All at once the servers returned illuminated by the light of four huge sparklers that adorned a massive cake of stars and stripes. The students broke into a roar, shouting and hollering, clapping their hands, cheering for the anomaly that was this Fourth of July, patriotic beauty. Someone, I do not remember who, shouted “Oh say can you…” and by "see" the whole room had joined in, all on different keys and some on no keys at all, but merely shouting the words at the top their lungs. Someone grabbed a sparkler from off the cake and began to parade

Photos taken in Italy by Lydia and Ben Ayres.

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around the room, swinging it dangerously close to the paper 9lags strung across the ceiling, but nobody minded. The sparklers and the camera 9lashes cast the room in an erratic glow, like the light that jumps across the gaping-‐mouthed faces of spectators at a 9ireworks display. And as the sparklers scintillated before my eyes and the shouting 9illed my ears, my mind went back to the day before. I walked into a room of owls, each contained within a glowing monitor alternating between monochromatic polka dot backgrounds. They were sporadically staggered on the barren walls that intersected the senators’ hall creating an open, yet enclosed space. I blinked up at one owl near the door. It blinked back, shifting his head slightly to the left and adjusting his feet accordingly. As I looked closer I saw that each owl was moving, ever so slightly, rustling its feathers or squinting its eyes, occasionally chirping in the dry, hoarse way owls do. Some were sleeping, while others squinted down at me with their bored almost cynical eyes. An anxious feeling grew inside me.

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An anxious feeling grew inside me as all sixty-‐eight of us waited nervously on the porch of the hotel’s back deck for the resident director to call out our names, introducing each of us to our new Italian “family” with a ceremonial kiss on the cheek and photo. The greetings were formal and strained, and while the students stumbled down the stairs I looked uncomfortably out over the crowd of strange faces, inspecting each one. That one, with the Hawaiian shirt and salt and

pepper hair, could he be my dad? The girl on his shoulders, my sister? Or is the woman with the fuchsia lipstick my host mom? I searched in vain for my family I had yet to meet, occasionally staring a bit too long, so that the person would look up and for a moment we would make eye contact before I awkwardly hurried my gaze to the next person. You could see the Italians were 46

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watching us, too. Straining their necks, bobbing behind one another to get a better view, some bored children yanking on parents' sleeves, asking when they could go. Some were nodding their heads in the August heat, while others stood almost completely still, with the occasional shift of the head and adjustment of the feet, a slightly bored expression on their faces. But it was art; I knew that, it was there to be observed, not to observe you. Unnerved, I crept to the center of the room looking up past the birds to the Baroque ceiling above. Eagles stretched their wings up the buttresses and morphed into great lea9ing acanthuses. Cherubs poked out behind white borders of rosettes and vines intertwined in a delicate pattern that wrapped around the vibrant fresco dominating the hall. The scene was fantastic and colorful, overwhelming me in its complexity. Angels emerged from the clouds and blasted trumpets down onto a crowd of smiling people and gods, each enveloped in rich folds of cloth spun with gold. My eyes danced around the painting, uncomfortably searching for a place to rest on the abstruse work. The only clear object

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discernable past the borders and details was a black anchor that jutted out of the painting towards the viewer. I advanced through the opening in the opposite wall only to encounter a monitor displaying a thick pile of skunk tails, their black and white coats shifting slightly as if a single body in mid slumber. The hall continued this way: works of classical and baroque art intermingled with the harsh neon-‐ colored portraits of strange men and animals that every once in a while would look back at you. It had a disconcerting effect, which could be seen on the addled faces of my peers, wandering the echoing halls making exclamatory murmurs of surprise and confusion. This was strange. This I did not understand. This was out of place and did not belong. And so there I was. Laughing and eating cake with these people who were not my family, yet were. With whom I shared my thoughts and my opinions, my likes and dislikes, my childhood memories and high school traumas. With whom I laughed until we doubled over from the pain of happiness knotted in our stomachs, tears streaming down our faces and choking on air. Related not by blood but by something that runs thicker – common circumstance. And we were eating this apple pie, that was not really apple pie, yet with each bite I tasted those little pieces of spiced apple and 9lakey crust. 48

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A Conscious Stupidity by Lydia Dick ’14 “There are four levels of competency,” my Honors Pre-‐Calculus teacher said. He drew a column of four boxes up on the blackboard, the chalk making shrill cries against the slate with each line.

Mr. HP, in his last year of teaching before retirement, often started off the class with

these “thought experiments,” he being a 9irm believer in the idea of what he called the training of the mind. The class only worked under the alias of honors pre-‐calculus, when in fact the old math teacher often branched off from mere mundane de9initions of theorems and formulas into the thinking and logic behind them. For example, one day we took the idea of continuity as a necessary but insuf9icient condition for differentiability, derived from the day’s discussion of derivatives, and applied it to the abuse of information in journalism. A moment of daydreaming, or a pause to sharpen a pencil could leave a student lost in the abstruse concepts diagramed in a web of white chalk on the blackboard. And so the students waited attentively as the shaky hand of the aging math teacher drew out the chart. He stuck a 9inger in the lowest box, “First, we are unconsciously incompetent…” A few months ago I sat with my host sister in the tower above our apartment. It was my 9irst weekend of my nine-‐month stay with her family. We sat propped up by pillows, facing each other in the windowsill that sat above the rooftops of the small medieval city below. She smoked a cigarette and let her calf swing over the edge, tapping her foot to the music coming from the speaker on the chair. We talked about movies, laughing about the ones we both knew, 49

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explaining the ones we did not, promising to watch them together later. Her English was perfect. Not in the grammatical sense, but when she spoke, she had a con9idence in her words as if they were old friends. The words came unfaltering and 9luid, without hesitations of fear or uncertainty. “Now this is where we are all probably right now,” Mr. HP said, underlining the words in the box CONSCIOUSLY INCOMPETENT and 9lashing a grin at the class. “Sono… Siamo… I mean, um…” stuttering I looked away from my Italian teacher, who stood mouth slightly agape, eyes wide and expectant, nodding slowly in encouragement for the words that would never come. I scoured my brain for the vocabulary I retained there only a minute ago, apparently secure after hours of practicing charts and conjugations, of making stacks of color-‐coded 9lashcards and study guides of grammar concepts. But it had all been wiped away by a simple inquiry, my mind debating and questioning every word that surfaced. I hardly ever said a word in the class, which was run in a conversational style; hardly anyone raised their hands and students shouted out answers as they came to them. The class was advanced; most of the other students were long-‐time Spanish students, or maybe had even taken a few years of Italian. I had signed up for the class over the summer, seeking the challenge and

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complacent in my language skills after years of high marks in French and Latin. This class was different from anything I had taken in the States. Those classes held my hand through carefully compiled lessons introducing grammar alongside necessary and complimentary vocabulary. In those classes there was time to dip slowly into a language, giving the students false con9idence by blinding them from the vast world they were being introduced to. Here there was no slow immersion into the sea of Italian; no testing and acclimating to its temperature. Instead, we were thrown in: dumped in the middle of its waters and forced to swim our way out. Our ignorance was proven everywhere, displayed up on advertisements, chattered in cafes, exhibited raw in conversations with our host families. The teachers told us to read Italian novels 9illed with hundreds, thousands, of unknown words. I attacked it with my highlighters and colored pens, stopping at every unknown word and getting through the 9irst 9ive pages in an hour.

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Vocabulary was largely assumed to be the students’ responsibility. After the 9irst week the class was total immersion, penalties given to those students who spoke in English. I sat quietly, understanding nothing as the teacher explained new grammar concepts. Every day I would ask one question: “Dove nel libro è questo?” and every night I would go back teach myself the entire lesson. But there were always the times when speaking was required, when I could not go home and carefully prepare the exercises or perfect an essay with the help of my host sister. Occasionally the teacher would pick out us quiet ones and ask us simple questions that required more than a ‘Si’ or ‘No’ answer. It was at these times that my language skills were on display for all to see. All the careful concealment I had used -‐ memorizing phrases when speaking was required, carefully planning every question or comment in my head, looking up book summaries in English – were peeled away to reveal the stuttering fool beneath. I did not understand how the other students were learning so quickly, how they could already be speaking and telling jokes after only a few weeks.

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“Then after a while, sometimes after years of studying, we might arrive here,” the teacher moved upwards and pointed to the third box: CONSCIOUSLY COMPETENT. I sat with my host sister again in the same tower six months later. This time we were joined by two of her friends, Stefano and Andrea. The days had turned much colder now and we huddled under blankets, encircling a space heater and gripping cups of earl grey tea and hot chocolate. They were asking me about things they knew, or had picked up about American culture, and we laughed as I disabused their beliefs of a world made up of McDonalds-‐loving cowboys driving Hummers. We spoke in Italian. Mine was far from perfect, and I still did not have the con9idence or ease of Flavia’s, but it was there, and in the back of my mind I held the secret satisfaction of being able to keep up with the conversation, even if just for the moment. I might never reach that 9inal stage my math teacher spoke about that day: when something becomes so natural it hardly requires thought. Despite her degree of 9luency I would not even say Flavia had reached it. Perhaps it will always be that unspoken goal, written in the top box in white shaky letters: UNCONSCIOUSLY COMPETENT. 53

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poems by Victoria Alberico Evenings fresh like morning dew, Sing sweet angelic songs to you. Moonlight reflects off the sea, Raindrops buzz like a bee. Dancing into the star lit sky, Without you I’d rather die. Midnight falls across the land, Let us hold hand in hand. Dawn appears and we all cheer, Come oh come my dear, my dear. Day light twinkles across the fog, Let us go it won’t be long. Love as pure as life’s romance, Bestow us with this hearts grand chance, To show the art of true and grace, And intertwine us with blankets thin as lace. Kisses soft and kisses sweet, I bid you adieu until we meet.

On angel’s wings she sings, Melancholy sounds she whispers, Dancing in the sunny sky, On angel’s wings she flies. Snow flakes fall the color of her wings, And falling from golden heavens gates, She soars coming down to earth with glee, Only to come and visit me. Hearts of hearts are warm and sweet, She coils up in my arms of love, Warm embraces written over our faces, We fly into the sky so high. Galloping in the cotton candy clouds, She wraps her arms around me, Spreads her wings and bolts on by, Only to come and visit me in the sky.

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She walks down the moonlit path, Her eyes hold secrets not yet told, She coils and yearns for someone to hold. He’s waiting there she thinks to herself, He’s waiting there ten past three, Under the ivory tree. The ivory tree is in the meadow, Safe and guarded from the plowing fields. She walk to him as he waits for her, Under the ivory tree. He’s been sleeping there for the past five years, Curled up in a bed of velvet and wood. He’s dreamed for days and wondered for nights. Only to come back to the ivory tree. As she comes to him, She cries the tears of a thousand rain storms, And falls back into the deep dark abyss, Only clawing at the memories she had of him. As she suffers as she goes, She will always come back to the engraved stone. She walks down the moonlit path, Her eyes hold secrets not yet told, She coils and yearns for someone to hold. He’s waiting there she thinks to herself, He’s waiting there ten past three, Under the ivory tree. The ivory tree is in the meadow, Safe and guarded from the plowing fields. She walks to him as he waits for her, Under the ivory tree. He’s been sleeping there for the past five years, Curled up in a bed of velvet and wood. He’s dreamed for days and wondered for nights. Only to come back to the ivory tree. As she comes to him, She cries the tears of a thousand rain storms, And falls back into the deep dark abyss, Only clawing at the memories she had of him. She suffers as she goes. She will always come back to the engraved stone.